Homily: 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year B

Readings: Dan 12:1-3; Ps 16; Heb 10:11-14,18; Mk 13:24-32

About 30 years ago, as a group of us celebrated a friend’s 50^th birthday, her husband raised his glass and wished her happiness, health and peace, and then he added, "And at the end of your days may you go straight to heaven."

Her response? “I really wish you wouldn’t say such things. I don’t enjoy hearing about death and sadness on my birthday."

Okay, she said it with a little smile, but it seemed to be mingled with a touch of fear.

Her husband had offered a prayer of hope and future joy, but she received it instead as an unpleasant subject best ignored.

Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel passage may also seem unpleasant to some, but they, too, are really a message of hope.

And I suppose how we receive that message depends on the depth of our faith.

You know, I’ve always believed the opposite of faith is not despair, but fear. Despair is just a sort of side-effect of fear.

It’s why Jesus so often tells us to “be not afraid,” but instead to accept the gift of faith.

Sadly, this wonderful gift that God extends to all is rejected by so many today. Let me share another encounter from my past.

I’ve actually retired several times in my life. But before my final retirement, I worked for a hi-tech firm in Massachusetts.

We had about 400 employees, and I was the oldest. Most were in their 20s and 30s.

One morning, having heard that a young colleague’s father had died, I stopped by his office and expressed my condolences.

His response was remarkable: “No big thing,” he said. “That’s what happens…death, then nothing. So, who cares?”

“We just have to enjoy life while we can. I do whatever makes me happy, whatever brings pleasure, no matter what."

Raised in a Catholic family, he now believed in what? The pursuit of ephemeral pleasure?

How unbelievably sad for him. He desired a continual earthly happiness that’s unattainable. Because he sees nothing beyond, his life has become essentially meaningless.

Beneath his cynical veneer one detects a deep despair, and an even deeper fear.

The great G.K. Chesterton once remarked that the problem with those who don’t believe in God is not that they believe nothing. It’s really much worse. They end up believing anything.

The early Christians encountered this among both pagan and Jews.

Today’s reading is from chapter 13 of Mark’s Gospel. In that chapter, Jesus refers to two very different events.

He had just predicted the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, something that occurred 40 years later when a Roman army under a general named Titus, fulfilled Jesus’ prophecy.

All that’s left standing can still be seen today – the single Western Wall of the Temple.

I supposed most of those listening to Jesus dismissed His prophecy as ridiculous ravings.

Imagine your reaction if on September 10, 2001, someone had told you the twin towers of the World Trade Center would not be there the next evening.

It's hard to conceive of such things happening.

But Jesus goes on, and begins to tell His disciples that they’re about to enter the final stage of God’s plan, the stage in which they will play a major role.

For they will fulfill the prophecy of Daniel we heard in today’s first reading:

“But the wise will shine brightly…and those who lead the many to justice shall be like the stars forever.” (Dan 12:3)

The destruction of Jerusalem and its Temple will be a sign that this change, this transition, is taking place, all beginning within a generation.

This change is highlighted too in our second reading from Hebrews. Here we’re told the Temple sacrifices of the Jewish priests cannot atone for sin.

Only Jesus’s “once-for-all” sacrifice on the Cross can do that. And every day, here and in churches throughout the world, we make present Jesus’ sacrifice on the Cross.

Yes, the sacrifice on the Cross and the sacrifice right here of the Eucharist are one single sacrifice.

And in truth you and I are made present to the Cross and receive the unlimited grace and power that flow from it.

Jesus is telling us that His passion, death, and resurrection fulfill the promises of the Old Covenant and initiate a New Covenant with Jesus as High Priest.

But Jesus also used His prophecy about the end of the Temple to tell His disciples about the end of time, about the end of the world as we know it.

When we first hear it, His message sounds like a message of fear, with its earthquakes, wars, famines, pestilence, and terrors in the heavens.

But it’s really a message of hope, not fear. Jesus gives us a real, tangible goal: to get to heaven, to gain the eternal life Jesus has promised us.

This is the mystery of our faith, the mystery we proclaim at every Mass:

We proclaim your death, O Lord, and profess your resurrection, until you cone in glory.

Today’s readings shouldn’t distress us because they’re not fearful; they’re hopeful.

How did Jesus put it? When these signs…"begin to take place, look up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near."

But what about today? What about us?

While waiting for Christ to come again, how should we act, how should we live?

Jesus tells us: watch and pray. Live as if He were coming tomorrow! Perhaps He is. We don't know.

Oh, there are Christians who say they have the inside story on the end of the world, and some believe it's right around the corner.

Their message is essentially the same: "The end is near! Repent!"

I suppose that’s not bad advice…but it’s slightly misplaced.

We’re not called to repent simply because we think the end is near. We’re called to repent and live accordingly because we’re Jesus’ disciples.

Jesus, of course, told us not to be deceived by those who come in His name telling us "The time has come."

Whether Jesus comes on Thanksgiving morning or two thousand years from now, we’re called to live as if He were arriving tomorrow.

Or better yet, as if He were already here. Because He is.

Yes, someday He will come in power and glory to place all creation at the feet of His Father.

But, today, He comes quietly, invisibly, wherever you and I are.

Look for Him not on a cloud surrounded by triumphant angels, and wearing the crown of a King.

No, as we wait for that majestic return, look for Him where He already is.

Look for Him seated all around you, beside you, in front of you, behind you, right here in the community of His faithful gathered together.

Here is the Body of Christ, His Church, and He is with us, for the Head cannot be separated from the Body.

Look for Him is His Word, for the Word of God is Jesus Christ. When you hear that Word proclaimed here at Mass, when you read your Bible at home, He is just as present to you as if He were right beside you.

As Jesus told us, “my Word will not pass away.” No, it never perishes, but remains to heal us, to nourish us, to give us strength.

And look for Him in the Bread of Life and His Precious Blood – here in His Eucharistic Presence, present here in a most special way – present in every way – Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity.

Look for Him at home on the faces of those you love, for He is present in them too.

And look for Him especially where He told us to look: in those who hunger and thirst, in the stranger, the sick, the homeless, the imprisoned, in the lonely, that person in your neighborhood who has no one.

You see, Jesus has given us plenty to do before He returns in glory as Christ the King.

And as He instructed His disciples, “It will lead to your giving testimony.”

The day will come, He warns, when they hand you over, when you are powerless, terrified, betrayed.

The day will come when you are tempted by lies and persecuted because of my name.  

The day will come, Jesus says, when all that you have left is your testimony.

That’s right; the day will come when all we have left is our witness to our Christian faith.

Are we ready for that?

As Jesus assured us in today’s Gospel, we are in that final stage of God’s plan and our generation has some work to do.

As Christians, as members of the Body of Christ, we’re called to prepare the world for the Lord's return, but we must first prepare ourselves.

How ready are we to receive Him?

Each of us will have his own end of the world, and for many of us here today that last day will come soon enough.

When we stand in His presence and say, "Here I am, Lord. Did I do your will?"

How will He respond?

Homily: Friday, 10th Week in Ordinary Time (Year 2)

 Readings: I Kgs 19:9a,11-16; Ps 27; Mt 5:27-32

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A few days ago, as I read today’s readings, I found myself recalling many of the conversations I’ve had with atheists and agnostics over the years. In almost every one of those conversations I could detect a subtle, but very real, hope that God does exist. As one young self-declared agnostic said to me, "It would certainly make life more understandable, knowing there’s a God behind all this. As it is now, for me, life is pretty meaningless.”

Yes, without God, life becomes meaningless, just a physical, chemical accident. And yet that hint of hope has always been there. It’s really the same desire expressed in today’s psalm, a Psalm of David, sung 3,000 years ago:

I long to see your face, O Lord.

We all seek God, to see Him, to as know Him, and it’s true even for those who don’t believe in Him. As my mom use to say, “Hope can lead us to faith; otherwise, we’re just consumed by fear.”

Perhaps St. Augustine, who took a rather odd, winding path to the Catholic Church, put it best: “…our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

Yes, we’re all on a pilgrimage, brothers and sisters, even those who aren’t fully aware of it. We can wander aimlessly, achieving little, or we can open our hearts to the Spirit and let Him lead us.

A few weeks ago, in one of our Bible Study sessions, a participant, concerned about a tragic event described in Genesis, asked me: “Why would God do that? Why would He let that happen?” Well, we discussed the event hoping to achieve some understanding of God’s purpose. But in truth, what I wanted to answer him with: “How do I know? I’m not God!”

That’s really not a bad answer. So often, we simply underestimate our all-powerful, all-knowing God, whose ways are so far above us. As the Archangel Gabriel said to our Blessed Mother: “nothing will be impossible for God” [Lk 1:37]. I suppose the question for us is do we believe that? Or are we like Peter when Jesus rebuked him:

“You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do” [Mt 16:23].

Just consider Elijah in today’s reading. Hunted by enemies who sought his death, in particular a rather evil queen Jezebel, Elijah seemed to have had enough, enough of everything, enough even of life. He actually hoped to die. But fed by angels, he obeyed God and made his way to Horeb, God’s holy mountain. There, God asked him:

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

The prophet, zealous and faithful, told the Lord what He already knew “I alone am left, and they seek to take my life.” He was afraid and alone. So, God put on a remarkable display of His power. Then, when the noise and violence had ceased, Elijah encountered the God of Creation – as one translation put it – in a “sound of sheer silence.”

God passes by like a soft breeze and the man covers his face because God has not yet become man. Only then will we see Him in the flesh, face to face. And only then will we adore Him as well in the gift of His Eucharistic Presence. And that’s what the world needs today. With senses inundated by the noise of this world, how can people recognize Him as He passes by? How can they see His face or hear the sheer silence of His holy Word?

Elijah Hides His Face

Elijah, whose faith was beyond question, was often left in the dark by God. Yet the Spirit was always there, leading and aiding the prophet as he tried to accomplish all these missions he’s been given. God expects obedience, and in a sense says: “Just do what I say, and I’ll handle everything else.” For Elijah, God’s immediate purpose becomes clear over time. But His ultimate purpose looks ahead 1,000 years, pointing to something new and wonderful: humanity’s redemption by Jesus Christ.

How about us? Are you and I prophets? Are we courageous enough to evangelize, to be God’s messengers, to speak His Word to the world? Yes, we’re called to do just that. But like Elijah and Jesus we face a culture, a culture of death, that screams its lies at us.

In our Gospel passage Jesus gets the attention of the crowd with His vivid images of plucking out eyes and cutting off hands. He’s not encouraging bodily mutilation, but He is he’s telling them: this is serious stuff; pay attention.

Then stressing the sixth commandment, Jesus really addresses the dignity of every person, the respect people should have for each other. We cannot simply use others for personal pleasure or to satisfy appetites. For Jesus is really addressing the nature of love, which is not just an emotional feeling, or a physical attraction. As anyone who’s been married a while realizes, true love demands a continual decision.

In contrast to today’s cult of self-absorbed pleasure seeking, the Gospel sets high standards. Not only does love demand faithfulness but it also calls us to be chaste in both thoughts and actions. Interesting too is that Jesus puts men and women on a morally equal level, which later causes some dismay among His disciples.

Today we often encounter the painful breakdown of marital relationships. While each case must be treated with pastoral sensitivity, we cannot neglect the fundamental values Jesus stresses here.

I suppose it’s all encompassed in Jesus’ first words of His public ministry:

"Repent, and believe in the Gospel" [Mk 1:15].

Yes, indeed, we must change our hearts and minds, and accept the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ in our lives.

Fear and Spiritual Paralysis

Much of humanity seems to be afflicted by a kind of spiritual paralysis, something that has infected far too many of the once Christian nations of Europe and the Americas. Sadly, it has also infected many in our Church. And the cause? I wish I were smart enough, or holy enough, to give a definite answer, but I'll instead just pass along my best guess. It's a guess based on what I see, and hear, and sense as I interact with so many others. Quite simply, the cause, as I see it, is fear.

So many seem to fear the world, its ills, and its threats. For instance, the COVID pandemic left much of the world paralyzed in fear. President Putin rattles his nuclear saber and the West trembles. Communist China declares its intent to displace the United States as the reigning world power and we cower, wondering, fearing when and how this will happen. We seem to seek out things to fear. Terrorism, climate change, crime, border crises -- they're all packed together into the collection of fears we've created. I suppose if I believed this brief time on earth was all there is, I too would be overwhelmed with fear. But we are believers, faithful Christians, who trust in the Lord, so why should we be fearful? 

Many Christians believe the absence of faith — that is, faith’s opposite — is disbelief, doubt, or denial. But for me I’ve always considered the opposite of faith to be fear, which so often leads to despair. It’s why faithless people are never truly happy. Lacking faith in God, they cannot help but see life as something that must end, followed by absolutely nothing. And that must be a fearful realization. I’ve always liked  Mark Twain’s comment on fear of life and death: “The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is ready to die at any time.” I would only modify the second sentence to read: “A man of faith is ready to die at any time.” But I suppose the two mean the same thing, for to live a life of faith is to live fully.

Mark Twain might have had a clever way with words, but God’s Word, revealed in Sacred Scripture tells us a lot more about faith and fear. Sometime ago I read that the phrase “Be not afraid” (or similar words) appears 365 times in the Bible, presumably once for each day of the year. I can’t recall where I read this, but it was probably on some Bible-Study website written by someone with way too much time on his hands. I also don’t know if this claim is true, and I suppose I’ll never know since I don’t intend to pore over the entire Bible to find out. Anyway, if I wanted to be picky, I’d ask if the deuterocanonical books were included in the count. And what about all those leap years that include 366 days? Are we free to fear every February 29th? 

As you might suspect, I’m not a big fan of such an approach to Sacred Scripture. I suppose there’s nothing inherently wrong with it, but it can cause us to focus a bit too much on the numbers at the expense of the message. And it’s the message that’s so important, especially today. So, let’s just say our loving God commands us to be fearless always. In effect, that command, whether or not it occurs 365 times, covers the entirety of the human condition. We must, then try to avoid responding in fear to all that we encounter in our messy lives. 

Looking back to my days as a Navy pilot, I can recall a number of occasions when things got pretty dicey, and I had to follow my training and rely on my experience to deal with potential life and death situations. But do you know what was most interesting about each of these situations? I was so busy trying to keep my crew and me alive that I never really knew fear. If I experienced any kind of fear, it was after the fact when the fight surgeon asked, "Maybe you'd like a little glass of brandy?" I recall thinking that was a marvelous idea.

Maybe, then, as Christians the key to avoiding fear is simply to stay busy doing the work of discipleship. I can't help but recall what St. Paul had to say on the subject to the Philippians:

"Brothers, I for my part do not consider myself to have taken possession. Just one thing: forgetting what lies behind but straining forward to what lies ahead, I continue my pursuit toward the goal, the prize of God’s upward calling, in Christ Jesus. [Phil 3:13-14]

Yes, indeed, that's our job: working and pursuing the goal. We must also accept that “Be not afraid!” and “Fear not!” aren't mere suggestions. They are imperatives, commands God issues to all His disciples. But they’re not mindless, arbitrary commands of the sort we humans tend to utter. How often as a child did you hear the words “Because I said so!” when you questioned a parent’s command? Our God isn’t like that, for He is the perfect Father who always tells us why. Yes, He reveals everything we need to know to become true disciples, everything needed for salvation. 

If we are believing, faithful Christians, we should know that our God cares for us, that He loves us with a love far greater than any human love. The Incarnation, and the Life, Passion, Death, and Resurrection of God’s only Son is, of course, the miraculous proof and manifestation of His love. But God’s love is also an eternal love, one that extends beyond our lives on earth. It is a love that offers us salvation, an eternal life greater than anything we could ever imagine. How did St. Paul put it?

"…no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him" [1 Cor 2:9].

Understanding this, we must develop an eternal worldview, one that focuses on the salvation promised to us. Once again St. Paul comes through with another of his wonderful metaphors:

Do you not know that the runners in the stadium all run in the race, but only one wins the prize? Run so as to win. Every athlete exercises discipline in every way. They do it to win a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one. Thus I do not run aimlessly; I do not fight as if I were shadowboxing. No, I drive my body and train it, for fear that, after having preached to others, I myself should be disqualified [1 Cor 9:24-27].

Yes, indeed, salvation is quite a prize. Why, then, do we fear when as Christians we are offered an eternal life that must overcome all the hardships, the challenges, the sorrows, and, yes, the fears of this short life on earth? Because, I suppose, we're human and are plagued by the effects of sin, especially the original sin of our first parents. We turn to the past and fear repeating the same mistakes, the same sins, we've committed again and again. And we look to the future, the unknown, and fear that which might happen and its consequences. We worry about our children, our grandchildren, forgetting that they, too, are loved by our merciful God. We fear the global effects of sinfulness and wonder how, as a people, we will ever solve the problems we have created. Here's the Good News: We won't. Only God can do that.

We fear all these things and many more because we forget the unconditional love and infinite power of our God. We need only turn to Him as a Christian people, accepting that only He can bring His creation to the wholeness He intended from the beginning. The power of prayer is far greater than any human power, but how many of us truly believe this? Wouldn't it be wonderful if the Catholic Church, our Holy Father and our bishops, joined together with the other Christian communities of the world and set aside a day, even better, a week of prayer? We need not pray for specific intentions; far better if we came together and prayed only that God's holy will be fulfilled. St. Paul reminded us of this as well when he instructed the Romans with those now-famous words:

"We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose" [Rom 8:28].

And I suspect our Jewish brothers and sisters might well join us in this prayerful effort. As the psalmist reminds us:

Teach me to do thy will, for thou art my God! Let thy good spirit lead me on a level path! [Ps 143:10]
…and

Not to us, LORD, not to us, but to your name give glory because of your mercy and faithfulness [Ps 115:1].

We must also repent, both as individuals and as God's Church -- no excuses, no rationalizations, no evasions. We need only turn to God, motivated by an honest desire to return His love for us and to change our lives.

Be not afraid, brothers and sisters. God is in charge.

Homily: Saturday, 14th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Is 6:1-8; Ps 93; Mt 10:24-33

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Today we have a few options. We celebrate Saturday in the 14^th week in Ordinary Time. But we also celebrate the optional memorial of St. Augustine Zhao Rong and 120 other Chinese martyrs who gave their lives over a period of three centuries. Finally, we celebrate the Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary. So, Father and I decided to wear white, knowing that those dear martyrs would gladly celebrate Mary along with us.

Turning to today’s readings, we find they’re all about calling…well at least in part. Calling is what God does, but that’s just one side of the equation. The other side, the part that really makes far more difference to us as individuals, is our response. And that’s really what these readings are all about, how we respond to God’s call. Now the Good News, and Sacred Scripture is all about Good News, is that God never stops calling us.

I’m going to get a little autobiographical today, always a scary thing to do, giving you a glimpse at my many imperfections. Looking back on my own, confusing life, I realize God began calling me very early. In fact, I was ten years old when I first heard His call. Back then, I didn’t think of it as a call. I simply didn’t know God well enough, and thought of it more as a nagging, not a calling.

Anyway, I had no idea what He wanted of me. He really wasn’t explicit, but He wouldn’t stop calling. Did you ever hear a song on the radio, one that just stuck in your head all day. I think the kids call it an “ear worm” – a pretty good metaphor. Well, that’s what God’s call was like for me. It just wouldn’t go away.

But I was involved in a lot of stuff, so I just pushed it aside and tried to go on with my life. High school, Georgetown, the Naval Academy, flight training, marriage, Vietnam, children, graduate school, my career as a Navy pilot, teaching, a consulting business – it was an intense time, but throughout it all I sensed the tug, the unspoken call. But for what, I didn’t know.

And then, when I was about 30, I was sent to teach at the Naval Academy, I discovered my immediate neighbor, an Air Force officer, was also a permanent deacon. That’s when I began to realize what God’s call was all about, but it still took me another 15 years to respond.

In our first reading from Isaiah, we encounter the prophet’s call. Isaiah spent the first 5 chapters delivering a prophecy to the people of Jerusalem and Judea, telling them what they could expect unless they returned to the Lord. Then, in chapter 6, today’s reading, he described his call.

Believe me, Isaiah’s call was a lot more explicit than mine. No Seraphim flew to me or cleansed my lips with coal, so I’d understand what God wanted of me. No, for me God simply sent a stream of wonderful people who pointed the way: deacons, priests, a bishop, and most importantly, a loving wife who apparently saw in me some faint reflection of what God saw.

When we turn to today’s Gospel passage from Matthew, we hear Jesus speaking to His apostles and really to all who must evangelize…and, folks, that’s all of us…every single one of us. He lets us know that we’ll be treated no better than he is treated. What had He said earlier?

"Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness..." [Mt 5:10]

What did the Apostles think when they heard those words? When you go out and preach the Gospel, you'll be persecuted, handed over to courts, be scourged, hated, and probably killed. Yes, indeed, like sheep among wolves.

Had I heard and through about that, I suspect in my weakness I would have been a bit slower to respond to God's call. But not the Apostles! Their love for Jesus was so strong, His message so compelling, that they went out willingly into the world, into persecution. Because of them, because they responded, not to fear, but to love, we are here in this Church today.

Three times in this brief Gospel passage, Jesus tells the Apostles, as He tells us, not to be afraid. If our love of God is just another form of fear -- fear of His power and judgment -- then it's not love at all. As St. John reminds us in his first letter, "Perfect love casts out fear" [1 Jn 4:18]. Jesus calls us not to fear, but to love, to love as God Himself loves. St. Francis de Sales, addressing fear and love, once wrote: "Those who love to be feared, fear to be loved."

25 years ago, on my day of ordination, as I lay prostrate before that altar in St. Anthony’s church in New Bedford, Massachusetts, I could only think of those words of Isaiah: “I am a man of unclean lips…” Perhaps a momentary touch of fear…and then I heard again the Lord’s response, another question:

“Whom shall I send?”

Yes, indeed, send me, unclean lips and all.

And that’s the same question each of us, each of you, should respond to today. God is calling each of us and continues to do so. He calls us despite our many imperfections, with all those fears that we just can’t seem to let go of.

God is calling you. You need only respond, and He will lead you.

Homily: Saturday, 11th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: 2 Chr 24:17-25; Ps 89; Mt 6:24-34

Over the years, as I’ve re-read and meditated on these words of Jesus, I’ve come to the conclusion that everyone, every single human being, is a servant. Now, this was no great theological insight on my part, since the Church has been telling us this from its very beginning. It just took me a while to figure it out.

We all serve, whether or not we actually choose to do so. We serve because we are creatures, created beings, and instinctively look to something greater than ourselves. And yet, despite our status as servants, God has given us the freedom to choose.

The question, though, is not: Will I serve? No, the important question is: Whom will I serve? Will I serve Him who promises life and joy? Or will I make an idol, a false god unworthy of my service? In my freedom, what choice will I make? Will I choose the Way, the Truth, and the Life? Or will I choose the father of lies? That’s what it really boils down to.

You see, we’re all created as children of God, to belong to Him completely. Of course, this bothers many people today, whose mistaken concept of freedom leads them to believe they are dependent on no one. Rejecting God, Who brought them into being, they turn themselves into little gods, who will not serve. The irony of it all escapes them: for they remain servants, but servants of some lesser god.

But in today’s Gospel passage Jesus doesn’t seem to be speaking to those who reject God completely, those who choose to serve only another. He’s speaking to His disciples. He’s speaking to us, to the ones who too often believe we can divide our allegiances. How did Jesus put it?

“No one can serve two masters…You cannot serve God and mammon” [Mt 6:24]

At the deepest level I think we all realize this, even though we spend very little time there. To do so can be painful as we encounter the truth about ourselves. And so, we stick to the surface, for it’s there that the world talks to us, telling us we can feed our addictions to all that the world offers, and still be “spiritual.”

We deceive ourselves into believing that we actually serve God, while loving not God but the world. We convince ourselves we can serve Him because we’re strong enough to resist evil, good enough to do good in the world, and spiritual enough to turn to God in occasional prayer and worship…all while we embrace the world, that other master.

But Jesus tells us: No! You can’t serve both. You must choose, choose the One or the other. By trying to serve two masters, we end up serving neither, therefore achieving nothing, certainly nothing lasting. Jesus calls us to make a choice: serve God or serve yourself. And if you serve yourself, your life will be defined by fruitless worry and anxiety.

In the ten verses of today’s Gospel passage, Jesus tells us again and again not to worry, just as He tells us throughout the Gospel not to fear. Worry is simply another form of fear, another symptom of our lack of faith. That’s what fear and worry are, the very opposite of faith. We spend so much of our lives worrying about and planning our future, our material, earthly future while neglecting our spiritual present.

As Christians, as disciples of Jesus Christ, we are called to trust, to turn to God in all things and live His great commandment. We are not called to love money, or fame, or power, or technology, or security, or possessions, or work, or beauty, or even golf.

No, we are to love God and love our neighbor. In his rule, St. Benedict instructed his monks: “Let nothing be preferred to the love of Christ.” Of course, none of this means we should turn away from God’s creation; after all, God proclaimed all creation as good. We can enjoy that which God has given us, so long as we enjoy it responsibly and don’t place it above our love for God and our neighbor. As Jesus revealed to St. Paul:

My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness" [2 Cor 12:9].

Perhaps recognizing our weakness is the best test. If you lost everything today, would your love for God, and the joy this love brings, be as great tomorrow?

Homily: Monday, 30 December - Year 2

Readings: Is 7:10-14; Ps 24; Lk 1:26-38

Don’t you just love Isaiah? The prophet talks a lot about fulfillment, and usually does so fearlessly, even when he must challenge worldly powers. King Ahaz for example, was not a good man. Indeed, he was especially bad, following pagan abominable practices like human sacrifice, even sacrificing his own son. He did many more nasty things which I won’t go into here. Judah was being attacked by the Syrians on one side and the Assyrians on the other, and Isaiah encourages Ahaz to ask God for a sign. Ahaz rejects the idea, but this displeases God and through Isaiah God gives Ahaz a sign anyway.

What we get is a messianic prophecy: a king and heir to David will bring salvation to God’s people. And He will come to the world uniquely:

“…the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall name him Emmanuel” [Is 7:14]

Emmanuel: "God is with us."  Our Savior, then, will come to us as a child. God will take human form, becoming one of us. This Child not only blesses the world with God's miraculous and divine liberation, but through Him, God becomes present among humanity and the promises heard so often before come true:

“I will be their God and they will be my people” [Jer 32:38]

This fulfillment is proclaimed to us by Luke as Mary is invited to be the Mother of the Savior of the world. This Jesus will be both God's Son and hers. I doubt that Isaiah ever dreamed of this: that the Word would be made flesh and live among us as one of us.

And so, you and I, the entire world, are thrust into the greatest event in all human history: the God of Creation becomes one of us. And what does God do? He makes it all depend on the agreement of a teenage, Jewish girl, simply to convince us that “nothing will be impossible for God” [Lk 1:47].

That’s just how God works: always calling the weakest to greatness. How did Andrew, the future apostle, put it?

“Can anything good come from Nazareth?” [Jn 1:46]

Nothing much, other than the Savior of the World, our Blessed Mother, and the obedient, God-fearing Joseph who devotes his life to protecting his family, protecting God’s family. Yes, indeed, nothing good comes from Nazareth except the Holy Family, except God Himself. And it’s here in Nazareth, not in Rome, or Athens, or Alexandria, where God chooses to enter our world. He appears in a tiny, forgettable Galilean village, in a backwater of the Roman Empire.

But as the prophecies remind us, it’s all been long prepared, a part of God’s unerring plan, so when Gabriel says, “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you” [Lk 1:28], we know Mary has been chosen from the beginning of time itself.

“Do not be afraid” [Lk 1:30], Gabriel says, and Mary sheds her fears. But the angel’s words echo down through the ages to our own times.

So many today are filled with fears, fears that try to overcome their faith.

So many have forgotten their calling as Christians, to give birth to Jesus in their lives and the lives of others.

Like Mary we have been called to give an unconditional “Yes” to God’s presence in our lives.

Like Mary, we too must ponder and reflect to discern what God is asking of us.

Like Mary at the foot of the Cross, we can be plagued with questions that seem unanswerable.

But like Mary, we, too, can hear and accept Gabriel’s words, “Nothing will be impossible for God.”

Wonderful, hopeful words that bring us peace as we welcome the Prince of Peace.

Homily: Tuesday, 30th Week in Ordinary Time - Year A

Readings: Rom 8:18:25; Ps 126; Lk 18:18-21

About 60 years ago, when I was a freshman at Georgetown, our theology course focused on Sacred Scripture. Our professor was an ancient Jesuit, probably in his sixties, who loved to tell stories. As we studied Jesus’ parables on the Kingdom, he told this brief parable of his own.

A man entered a garden shop and was surprised to see God behind the counter.

"You can have anything you want, free of charge!" God told him.

Surprised and thrilled, the man said, "Oh, I'd really like to be wealthy!" But from the expression on God's face, he realized he might have made a mistake; and so, he added, "and, of course, the same for all my neighbors."

But God still hesitated, so the man thought: perhaps I should have asked for something more spiritual.

"I'd also like peace and blessings on me and my family."

But God still did nothing.

"Ok," he blurted, "I'd like peace in the world! And an outbreak of love; yes, an epidemic of love from one end of the world to the other!"

With this, God shook His head and said, "You've come to the wrong shop. We have only seeds here."

Yes, God is in the seed business. He loves to give us little things that He will turn into very big things.

Of course, like Jesus, the good Jesuit father was trying to show us that God’s gifts demand a suitable response from us.

His gift of faith is handed to us in countless different ways, tiny seeds that He will fertilize and water if only we accept them, take them to heart, and give them room to grow.

Brothers and sisters, the Kingdom isn’t a place; it’s really a web of relationships, God’s people working together with Him to bring His love and His justice into the world. And it’s through Jesus Christ that God’s love, God’s power, breaks through into our lives. We need only accept Him, and accept the Gospel, that tiny seed, that small measure of yeast, and the result will be beyond our imagining.

Remember those words of Jesus as He began His public ministry? 

“The Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe in the Gospel” [Mk 1:15].

Yes, dear friends, the Reign of God is here but it needs a response from us; it needs repentance and faith. Repentance, that metanoia, the call to undergo a complete change of mind and heart, a conversion, a willingness to turn away from self and turn to God. And faith – an acceptance of this wondrous gift that overcomes all fears. Let your faith smother those fears. How did St. Paul put it to the Romans, who had real reason to fear?

“…the sufferings of this present time are as nothing compared with the glory to be revealed for us” [Rom 8:18].

And it’s through us that God reveals His mercy, and His love to the world. Just as the yeast is inserted into the flour, we too must allow God to insert us into the world. We become infiltrators, or as Paul prefers to call us, “ambassadors for Christ” [2 Cor 5:20] – ambassadors of the Kingdom – allowing God to appeal through us.

That’s our job, as Christians, to expand the Kingdom, spreading God’s Word and God’s love in the little slice of His creation He’s given to each of us.

We need only visit His little garden shop, and He’ll give away the seeds – that’s the business He’s in.

The Reality of COVID-19

We’re well into our second year of coping with the COVID-19 virus and yet so many people are still overcome by fear. We have a collection of vaccines that offer real protection. Does it protect everybody? No, some vaccinated people have also contracted the virus, but in most instances these cases tend to be rather mild. And many others, who have survived the virus, have enhanced immunity, far greater than that provided by the vaccines. 

But perhaps the most telling statistics relate to deaths as a result of COVID. As of October 6, there have been 700,952 deaths in the United States attributed to the COVID virus — this out of a total U.S. population of 334 million. Over 76% of these deaths were among those aged 65 or over. But how many of these seniors had other underlying health issues that likely contributed to their deaths, or were actually the primary cause of death? Over the past 18 months I have conducted or assisted at dozens of funerals and committal services. Quite a few of those who died had tested positive for COVID, but many of these also had terminal illnesses and were not expected to survive. As one doctor told me, “Follow the money.” Apparently hospitals benefit from COVID cases.

Very few young or middle-aged adults have succumbed to the virus. Those between the ages 18 and 49 account for a little less than 6% of all COVID deaths, or 41,783 of 700,952 deaths. Those Americans between the ages of 50 and 64 account for 17.5% of the COVID deaths, or 122,500 of the 700,952 total deaths. Perhaps most surprisingly, though, is the fact that less than one-tenth of 1% of those who died of COVID were below the age of 18 — a total of 499 deaths out of 700,952. In fact, far more children died from other individual illnesses, accidents, and other causes than from COVID. It appears children, if they contract the virus, tend to have only mild or asymptomatic cases and also do not spread it to others easily. In previous years, for example, influenza killed far more children each year than COVID since it hit our shores in late 2019. Masking children in our schools, then, would seem to be designed not to protect them or their teachers, but to exert control. And always remember, governments like to exert control.

You can view a graph of these statistics here: COVID-19 Deaths as of 6 October 2021.

I include the above to remind those who are fearful that the chances of reasonably healthy people of any age dying of COVID is quite small. I’m currently 77 but am not worried about getting COVID. Of course I believe in exercising prudence and so both Diane and I got the vaccination earlier this year, and will likely get the booster, especially if we decide to travel north to visit family this fall. But fear? No, I have no fear, and neither should you. But my lack of fear doesn’t stem from statistics. 

First of all, if, as a Christian, you allow fear to consume you, your faith is weak. As I so often remind others, perhaps too often, the opposite of faith is not despair; rather, it is fear. Jesus often reminds us of this. Remember that wonderful Gospel passage [Mk 4:35-41] when, crossing the Sea of Galilee, a storm arose causing the disciples to waken a sleeping Jesus and ask Him: “Do you not care if we perish?” Of course, Jesus immediately calmed the sea and storm, but He then asked the disciples that double-barreled question, “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” And He asks you and me that same question today.

I get all kinds of questions about COVID. Some people have asked me, “Is God punishing us by inflicting us with this disease?” I usually answer by saying, “Darned if I know, but I don’t think so. We seem entirely too capable of punishing ourselves without God’s help.” Of course, It all started back in Eden, didn’t it? Our first parents, who had been created “very good” by God [Gen 1:31] decided that wasn’t good enough and ignored God’s warning. They disobeyed and brought death into the perfect, deathless paradise God had created. That sin, that original sin, brought death and all kinds of other bad stuff into the world, and among that bad stuff is COVID. God doesn’t will death and disease, but His permissive will allows it. You see, I don’t believe in coincidence when it comes to God. After struggling through these 77 years I’ve come to the realization that everything that happens in my life has a purpose, and if I remain faithful, it will always lead to good. 

The very core of the Gospel may be found in those wonderful words from John: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life” [Jn 3:16]. Eternal life, folks. That’s what it’s all about. So, why would any of us who believe the Gospel, who believe in our Lord Jesus Christ, and who live our faith — why would any of us be fearful?

If you’re still plagued by fear, I suggest you spend some time every day in prayer, preferably before the Blessed Sacrament, asking Our Lord to deepen your faith and dissolve your fears. There’s nothing to fear, brothers and sisters, because we’ve been shown the path to eternal life. 

9/11 Twenty Years Later

On that Tuesday morning in September 2001, I was in my office in Hyannis, Massachusetts on Cape Cod, engaged in a conference call with perhaps twenty other people from around the world. Suddenly, one of the callers, a woman in London, interrupted and said, “A plane just flew into the World Trade Center in New York. It’s on the telly.” I asked only one question: “Can you tell what the weather’s like in New York?” Her response, “Oh, yes, I can see blue sky, so it must be good weather.” I simply said, “Then it also must be a terrorist attack. Planes don’t fly into Manhattan skyscrapers when the weather is good.” 

With that I stopped the call, rescheduling it for another day, and went to our corporate dining room where I knew there was a large screen TV. Of course, when the second plane crashed into the south tower, everyone knew we’d suffered a terrorist attack. This began our 20-year journey to the present day and its confusions.

This Sunday morning our local newspaper devoted its entire first section to the vicious terrorist attack on September 11, 2001 and it’s aftermath. This is a good thing, and I look forward to making my way through the series of articles as I try to relax this Sunday afternoon. But our newspaper’s primary, front-page headline made me cringe. The paper? The Villages Daily Sun, and the headline read:

After the towers fell, we were frightened and angry. We ached for security, and we’re willing to trade some civil liberties to get it. 

Now, unlike the so-called journalist who penned this headline, I can speak only for myself. So what’s wrong with the headline? Well, I certainly agree with part of his first sentence. I was angry. No doubt about that. In fact, I don’t believe I’ve ever been angrier. But of one thing I can be sure, I was not frightened. Only a coward, a fool, or  one of little faith would be frightened in the wake of a terrorist attack like 9/11. Sadly, we have many of each in our nation. I pray for them, that they will open their hearts to God’s gift of faith to obliterate their fears.

I also turned immediately to prayer, not through fear, but because I knew we must, as a people, turn to God. We must beg for His help and direction, for His grace in dealing with this horrendous attack on our nation, this act of war. And because of its source, this attack was actually an attack on Judeo-Christian society, on Western Civilization, or what’s left of it. 

As for the second sentence of today’s headline, I completely disagree. Back on that first September 11th, I did not, in any way, “ache for security.” No, as an old Navy pilot, as a retired Navy Captain, I wished I were about 20 years younger so I could have joined the fight-to-be. If I ached for anything, that was it. 

And so, after prayer, the first thought that ran through my angry mind was one of concern, for I knew that governments love to accumulate power and once they have it, they never relinquish it. What will our government do to enhance our security? At first, I dismissed those concerns and naively believed government agencies responsible for our security would take proper and wise steps to protect our nation from future attacks. Again, unlike the headline writer, I definitely was not willing to trade my constitutional rights, my civil liberties, for a bit more security. In fact, drastic security measures were about the last thing on my mind. I had hoped we would learn from the one democratic nation that had been the most successful in preventing terrorist hijackings, the nation of Israel. Israel’s approach was personal; that is, it focused on the person more than the stuff. They didn’t ignore the contents of baggage and personal belongings, but they turned their attention primarily to the person. They had discovered that terrorists often had obvious, predictable traits, that potential terrorists could be identified before they boarded an aircraft. But instead, President Bush created another pair of unwieldy bureaucracies, the Department of Homeland Security and the TSA, and along with his successor and an agreeable Congress, resorted to extreme but not always the most effective means to increase security. In this effort we often use blatantly unconstitutional, and often quite foolish, approaches to security. Today the elites who burden the nation’s citizens with authoritarian rules avoid them by flying in government or private aircraft. I, too, avoid commercial air travel whenever possible, but since I lack the means, I must drive. I simply refuse to subject myself and Dear Diane to the folly of present day aviation security…like the time a TSA employee revealed that I was singled out for more intensive search because I wore a cross on my lapel.

And today, we look to Afghanistan, where all this began twenty years ago, and for reasons we can blame only on ourselves, nothing has changed.

Pray for our nation. 

 

Homily: Eucharistic Adoration

Readings: Jas 3:13-18; Psalm 122; John 14:23-29

Listening to St. James is always a bit of an awakening. He certainly didn’t pull any punches. His Letter is filled with wonderful truths about living our faith; but when reading this passage, I was especially struck by his words, “…in the humility that comes from wisdom” [Jas 3:13].

I'm pretty sure He's telling us that wisdom means having a true sense of the reality of things. And perhaps the greatest of all realities is the vast difference between us and the God who created us. Recognizing this difference can do nothing but fill us with humility. Yes, indeed, humility comes from wisdom, the acceptance of God’s greatness and our seeming insignificance.

And yet, our God created us in love…

He wants us to spend an eternity with Him, out of love…

He humbled Himself to become one of us, out of love…

He blesses us with His greatest gift, the gift of Himself in the Eucharist…again, out of love.

And as St. James reminds us, the fruit of it all is God’s peace, a peace that frees us from anxiety and fear.

Of course, we hear much the same from Jesus.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid” [Jn 14:17], He told the Apostles – a message for all of us.

Are you afraid? If so, you're in good company. The apostles were certainly afraid and confused.

Jesus spoke to them about His death, His execution at the hands of His enemies. In our passage from John, we can almost sense their confusion. 

If He’s the Son of God, one with the Father, how can this happen? How would they cope without Him? Would they also be arrested and executed? Yes, they were afraid, and fear undermined their faith. They began to doubt. 

These fears remained, throughout Jesus' Passion and Death, and even after His Resurrection. Only with the arrival of the promised Holy Spirit on Pentecost did their fears evaporate, replaced by God's peace.

“Peace is my farewell to you; my peace is my gift to you” [Jn 14:27].

And, yes, God’s peace is so very different from the peace the world offers.

For God doesn’t promise the absence of war or conflict. His peace doesn’t free us from suffering or persecution, from pain or illness. It’s not the peace of a tranquil life, nor is it peace of mind.

This is the peace the world promises, always unfulfilling, superficial, misleading, ephemeral, and unjust.

It’s not the peace Jesus gives us. How did He put it?

“Not as the world gives do I give it to you” [Jn 14:27].

Because the peace that Jesus promises completely transcends anything the world can offer us.

Victor Frankl, an Austrian psychotherapist who died in 1997, spent much of World War II as a prisoner in Auschwitz and other death camps.

Frankl, a Jew, wrote a book of his experiences called, “Man's Search for Meaning.”

In it he describes how, in the midst of brutality and degradation, he encountered so much remarkable faith and unselfish love.

Amazed by those who had achieved victory over the sinfulness that surrounded them, Frankl had a revelation. He wrote:

“Then I grasped…The salvation of man is through love and in love.

For the first time in my life, I was able to understand the meaning of the words, ‘The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory.’”

Yes, in the midst of the horror that was Auschwitz, Victor Frankl had encountered God’s peace. 

This is the peace proclaimed by Christ, a peace that is achieved by victory over sin, something that comes only through the power of God.

The basis of peace, the peace of soul Jesus promises, is God and God alone.

And the very soul of peace is love, which comes only from the love of God and expresses itself through us in our love for others.

Only by turning to God can we rid our lives of all that is driven by selfishness and greed, by hatred and bitterness. For whatever takes away God’s peace from your soul cannot come from God.

Only by turning to God can we replace the evil in our lives with love for God and neighbor, with forgiveness, with the will to help others, and the desire to share the Good News of Jesus Christ.

The secret of peace? Trust, trust in the will of God.

Too often we trust only in ourselves. We think we can achieve peace in our lives by our own efforts, but in doing so we become only like the Pharisees.

How different are the saints…who sought only to love and serve God.

For the saints knew that one doesn’t become a saint. It is God who makes saints…out of sinners who trust in Him and accept His will for them.

No saint ever had a plan to become a saint. Had this been the case, he would have become only a perfectionist, not a saint.

Brothers and sisters, we can possess the peace of Christ, a fruit of the Holy Spirit, but only if God’s Spirit lives within us.

As Jesus promises us:

"If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him" [Jn 14:23].

And that’s exactly what our loving God does when we receive Him worthily in the Eucharist.

When God dwells within you, there’s no room for anything else, no room for anything but God's peace – and certainly no room for fear.

Fear never comes from God. To escape it simply turn to our Lord in total trust.

And remember, wherever Jesus is, so too is the Holy Spirit – with us to guide us, strengthen us, encourage us, just as He guides, strengthens, and encourages the Church.

Anyway, what is there to fear when you have been promised eternal life?

As St. Paul tells us again and again, Christ – and only Christ – is our peace [Eph 2:14].